Warrior's Heart
by Umbra Magna
Summary: On a mission to Dracoria, General Grievous encounters Dymir Tirall, a powerful little girl who brings back memories of his life on Kalee. DISCLAIMER: I do not own Star Wars or any of the original Star Wars characters. I only own my OC's and locations and items of my creation.
1. The Invasion of Dracoria

The sound of mechanized stomps filled the air as the army of battle droids marched toward the village. The high-pitched wail of Separatist starfighters whirred overhead, and giant tanks rumbled along behind them. They marched on for nearly ten minutes. Then he raised his hand, and all movement on the ground stopped immediately.

General Grievous looked around him. Apart from the cities scattered around the planet, Dracoria was a rather dull-looking planet. The grassy plains looked yellow-brown, dying. The mountain range to the east was gray and low; the highest peak must have been about two hundred feet high, three hundred at most. Dust carried on the wind that stirred the dying grass, which produced a rattling rather than a brushing sound. Even the sky looked a sickly, dirty green-yellow. The only area of interest was the large city dead ahead. The city was obviously in disrepair. Dilapidated buildings soared into the sky, but no speeders were to be seen; this was no Coruscant. A few city dwellers ran across the streets. Grievous couldn't help thinking that they looked like insects in a colony at that distance. This was the city of Iskra, the capital of Dracoria. Count Dooku had ordered Grievous to secure the city-and, indeed, the entire planet-for the Separatists. Grievous understood that the Separatists were at this point losing many star systems to the Republic, and the Separatists needed more systems to even the score. But why Dracoria? Why this run-down, dystopian planetary system? Perhaps the buildings would be of some use as a base, he figured. Or perhaps the Republic simply didn't want it.

Grievous turned to a battle droid to his left. "Order your tanks to fire on my signal," he commanded.

"Yes, sir," the droid answered in a monotone. It turned and made a gesture with its mechanical hand, to which the droids near the back of the regiment responded with the same gesture, priming their tanks' weapons.

"Now, onward!" Grievous led his army across the plains, keeping his eyes on the large building in the center of the city, the building of the extinct Dracorian government. He was looking for the dangerous mercenaries that hid in the shadows. These thugs were known collectively as the Mortax. Grievous knew that the planet had once been governed under a constitutional monarchy. But it had been in anarchy for nearly ten years. Havoc-wreaking thugs said to run the streets of Dracoria had overthrown the government. Dooku recognized the Mortax as a threat to their operation, and so he had ordered Grievous to wipe out every last mercenary he could find. Grievous was almost surprised that his master had given him a task so easy.

The Separatist army marched toward the city, never stopping. As they approached, Grievous noticed the citizens scurrying around like small rodents, trying to find suitable hiding spaces. But they had no reason to worry-not most of them, anyway. Grievous had only been ordered to kill the Mortax mercenaries. He wouldn't waste his time killing civilians as long as they didn't get in the way.

They approached the main government building, which loomed above them like a shadow.

Grievous turned to the droids that manned the tanks. "On my signal...three...two...one...FIRE!"

Instantly large red blasts emanated from the tanks' cannons and blasted the front door of the building wide open. Grievous looked around. He had expected the mercenaries to fire on them immediately as they entered the city, but no fire came. He suspected that they were waiting for them, planning to take them by surprise. Someone must have informed the mercenaries of their arrival. But who?

"You five," Grievous ordered the super battle droids near him, "follow me into the building. Everyone else defend our position from the outside." He stormed into the building, the super battle droids following close behind, and found himself in a large room with marble tiles and pillars. It had to be at least twenty feet high. The sounds of their feet echoed across the room until Grievous ordered them to halt. For a moment everything was completely still. He listened, and sure enough he could hear the sound of footsteps from the other side of the room. Suddenly laser bolts shot across to them from that direction. Grievous instinctively ignited his lightsabers and charged at the mercenaries. Some were hiding behind the pillars, while others were running down a corridor at the back of the room. Grievous dashed up to one of the pillars, and before the mercenary could lift his weapon to fire, he sliced off his arms and impaled him through the chest. The mercenary's body fell to the ground with a thud. He deflected the laser blasts that flew in his direction and sent them flying back, killing several more mercs.

Grievous heard another mercenary shout, "Run! He's too powerful!" They all ran toward the back corridor, stopping every now and then for cover. Grievous figured he could take them. There were only five left, seven at most; the rest he had already killed. "Stay here," he ordered the droids. "I will deal with them myself."

He raced down the corridor, which turned left and led to a flight of steps. He ran down the staircase and into a longer corridor that was lined with torches. He stopped, listening. There was nothing to be heard but the flickering of the flames on the torches, and...crying? The sound was coming from somewhere to the left. Intrigued, Grievous followed the sound to a small doorway off the side of the hall. He looked both ways, making sure the mercs were not there, and peered into the doorway. A girl about ten years old was weeping in the corner. She was dressed in black, and Grievous's eyes widened in surprise as he saw the Kaleesh insignia on the back of her cloak. "Who are you?" he asked. "What are you doing here?"

The girl immediately stopped crying and whipped around to look at him, her mouth wide open in shock. She said nothing, but merely stood there in shock.

"Answer me!" Grievous exclaimed.

"I-I'm not with them!" the girl stammered. "The Mortax I mean! They're my enemies! I've been trying to fight them off, but-"

"Fight them off? You? With what?"

"With this," she replied, and she held out her weapon, a lightsaber with an engraved hilt.

"Where did you get that?" Grievous demanded. "And where did you get those clothes? You are not Kaleesh!"

"Half," the girl answered. "My father was Kaleesh." As she spoke, Grievous noticed her sharp teeth, which revealed at least some Kaleesh ancestry. The rest of her was completely Sha'Koran, a species that looked almost completely human save for the distinctive colored markings on the body. In the girl's case, the markings were purple, located just below her large, dark eyes.

"Who was your father?" he asked her.

And the girl replied, "His name was Koorvan. Koorvan Tirall."


	2. Dymir

The Kaleesh soldiers could only stare at the massive pile of rubble that stood before them like a great, terrible mountain. The Huk (or Yam'rii, as they were also called throughout the galaxy) had destroyed their most sacred temple. And the Republic had allowed it.

"This is unacceptable," said one of the soldiers. "Unacceptable!"

"We cannot let this go on any longer," said another. "What are we to do?"

The leader of the group stood silently for a moment or two, staring at the desecrated temple in anger. "We will do as we have always done," he finally replied in a quiet, almost distant-sounding voice. "We will fight."

"But General, how can we possibly keep it up? You may have pushed the Huk back, but the Republic will surely strike a harder blow."

"I know," the leader replied. "And it will surely be devastating for all of Kalee. But we must try our hardest to push right back again."

"But-"

"No! There is nothing that will prevent me from fighting tooth and nail for my planet's safety! Remember our battle cry? _Temari raiga!_ Forget your fear! That is what you must all do in order to defeat the Huk and restore Kalee to a state of peace and security. Now, are you all with me or not?"

The soldiers stood there for a few moments, silent. Then one of the soldiers stepped forward toward his leader and said, "I am with you, General Grievous. You have always known that. Nothing could diminish my loyalty to you."

Grievous looked at the soldier standing resolutely before him. Impressed, he replied, "Thank you, Tirall. I do not, nor will I ever, doubt your loyalty to me and to our cause. But...can I say the same for the rest of you?"

The other soldiers looked at each other, contemplating the weight of the general's words. Then they stepped forward as Tirall had done-all of them, that is, except one.

"Eshaal," Grievous addressed the soldier who had not stepped forward and who was now leaning with his arms crossed against the wall of a crumbling building. "Did you not hear my question?"

The soldier looked up at the general with an arrogant half-smile, his eyes burning with contempt. "Oh, I heard you loud and clear, General," he answered. "You spoke, but you said nothing."

Grievous stared at Eshaal in surprise. "What did you say?"

"I said that you spoke, but you said nothing," Eshaal repeated somehow more contemptuously than before.

"You are out of line, sir." the general said.

"Oh, am I?" said the arrogant soldier. "Have you become so out of touch with reality that you think _I_ am at fault? No, general, it is you who are to blame here. You have lead us into a permanent state of turmoil. You have robbed us of any opportunities at peace."

"Peace!" Grievous exclaimed. "What exactly are you insinuating? That we could have made _peace_ with the Huk, who have enslaved and brutally murdered us for years?"

"You brought this upon yourself, General, and upon all of us, when you invaded their world."

Grievous stared at him in disbelief. He had indeed led his armies onto the Huk's home planet, but that was to ensure his people's safety. There was no way he (or anyone) could have known that the Huk would dupe the Republic into believing that the Kaleesh had been the aggressors the whole time. What's more, he had never dealt with such disloyalty and impudence-in his own elite, no less! Nevertheless, he tried to keep calm. "Eshaal," he said in a dangerously quiet voice, "when you joined the Izvoshra, you swore an oath. You promised to protect Kalee no matter what it took. Am I to believe that you are now going back on your oath?"

Eshaal slowly straightened out of his leaning position and walked slowly up to the general, looking him straight in the eyes. He narrowed his eyes and said, "Are you questioning my loyalty?"

Grievous stared right back at the soldier so hard that his gaze seemed to penetrate his skull. "Only if you are questioning my ability to lead this planet to freedom and safety," he replied.

Eshaal laughed a short, haughty laugh of disbelief. "Well, then," he said. "I guess I have nothing left to lose here." He paused for a moment as the general stared at Eshaal in confusion. Then suddenly Eshaal whipped around and fired his rifle.

Tirall fell to the ground, his hand over his heart where he'd been hit. Grievous rushed over to Tirall in shock, trying to help him. The other soldiers crowded around, watching. "Stay with me, Tirall!" he shouted in desperation. "Stay with me!"

Tirall was uttering quiet, incoherent sounds, as if he were trying to say something, but no one could understand him. "Koorvan," Grievous said, now desperate enough to address his officer by his first name (which he almost never did). "Koorvan, what is it?"

Tirall looked his leader in the eyes, weak but still fighting with what little strength he had left against the intense pain in his chest. He was determined to say what he needed to say, but he seemed unable to make the words come. Finally, with a look of sadness in his eyes, and in a voice so quiet Grievous almost didn't hear him, the soldier said one final word.

"Dymir..."

"What? Koorvan, what does that mean?" But his body went limp in the general's arms. Tirall was dead. Grievous stood up and turned away from his comrades as a few tears escaped his eyes.

"General," said one of the soldiers. "Should we take his body to the eastern temple?"

The eastern temple, where the elders performed the usual rituals before laying the dead to rest. "Yes," Grievous answered quietly, and the soldiers left with Tirall's body. His heart ached from the loss of his friend and the treachery of his former comrade-in-arms. _How can he do this?_ _Why did he do this?_ When Grievous turned around again, the soldiers had gone, and Eshaal was nowhere to be seen. _He must have escaped while we were trying to save Koorvan_ , he figured. He promised himself he'd find Eshaal one day and kill him to avenge Koorvan. And he would find out the meaning of that word... _Dymir_.

"So Koorvan Tirall...is your father?" Grievous asked in a slight trance, still in shock from the wave of memories that had overtaken him just now.

"Y-yes," the girl answered. "Why...did you know him?"

"Yes..." Grievous answered, still in a bit of a dream-like state. "And you...is your name...Dymir?"

The girl looked at him, wide-eyed. "Yes," she replied. "How did you know my name?"

Suddenly a crash thundered from down the corridor. The mercs were getting away. Grievous snapped out of it and said, "Come on. We have to get out of here."

"Here," said Dymir. "I'll help you take them out."

Grievous had to stifle a laugh. "What? You?"

"Yes," the girl said matter-of-factly. "I'll have you know the soldiers I lived with taught me well."

Grievous stared at her for a moment, and he thought he could sense a bit of her father in her. "Just follow me." He walked away from the door and started to sneak down the hallway, careful to stay in the shadows. Dymir left the room, following his lead very closely. It was quiet at first, but after a while Grievous thought he could here whimpering in a room not far down the hall. He followed the sound and, sure enough, the mercs were hiding in the room, loading their weapons. "Wait here," Grievous told Dymir, and he began to approach the door.

"What? No!" said Dymir in a voice just above a whisper. "I'm not going to let you leave me behind! I'm going in there and fighting them off with you!"

Before Grievous could respond, Dymir rushed into the room and ignited her lightsaber. The blade was dark yellow, and it lit up the room much better than the torches that lined the walls. Grievous could hear some of the mercenaries start to laugh. "Okay, kid," said one of them, laughing. "You'd better put that down before you hurt yourself. That's not a toy-"

"I _know_ what it is, you scum!" shouted Dymir. "And I'm not afraid to use it!"

There was a small period of silence. Then the merc said, "Kid, I don't want to have to do this, but if you don't put that laser-sword down, I'm gonna have to shoot you. And you don't want that, do you?"

"Try me," Dymir replied.

The merc sighed. "I really don't want to do this-"

"Then I suppose you have no choice but to surrender." Grievous stepped out of the shadows and into the dimly-lit room. Dymir turned to look at him for a second but turned back quickly for fear that her enemies should fire. But she needn't have worried; the mercenaries were trembling at the sight of the powerful general as he ignited two sabers and stepped beside Dymir. "Are you sure you can handle this?" he asked her.

"Absolutely," replied Dymir.

"All right, then." Grievous and Dymir rushed at their opponents in a flurry of light. The mercs fired their blasters, but it was no use. Grievous cut one of the merc's blasters in half before slicing the merc himself in half and impaling another at the same time.

Meanwhile, Dymir swirled and spun her saber in a flurry of strikes and slashes, cutting down two thugs before they had time to lift their blasters to fire. Two more, realizing far too late the threat the young girl presented, opened fire, but Dymir deflected the scarlet blaster bolts with ease, spinning her lightsaber in such a manner that it looked more like a great yellow blur. She rushed up to one of them, still deflecting blaster bolts, and kicked him in the chest. It was a quick, hasty kick, not very strong, just a diversionary tactic. _She relies too much on speed and diversion_ , Grievous thought as he watched the girl's demonstration. _That could be a problem._

Finally, there was only one mercenary left. Grievous and Dymir stalked up toward him as he quivered in fear. He still had his blaster aimed at Grievous, but he was trembling so badly that his aim could not have been right.

"We have you now," Grievous proclaimed to the mercenary.

"Any last words?" asked Dymir.

The mercenary continued to tremble before them, surprised at having been overtaken so easily. "How-how did you get to be so...powerful? You are a child. How...?" His legs gave out beneath him, and he fell to the ground.

Dymir walked up to him and knelt beside him. "The Kaleesh and Sha'Koran warriors taught me well," she replied. "I may be a child, but I am the child of Koorvan Tirall, one of the members of the famed Izvoshra! He may have been killed, but I will continue his legacy!"

She held her lightsaber up to his neck, and he whimpered. "Please, don't kill me!" he cried. "I'm begging you, let me go!"

"I can't do that," Dymir said in a cold voice. "You are too dangerous to be left alive. Look at what you have done to the city! Look at what you have done to this building, overthrowing the government and killing innocent people in the process! You sicken me, filth!" Without another word, Dymir impaled the mercenary in one swift move, and the mercenary lay dead on the ground.

As they switched off their lightsabers and made their way out of the building, Grievous took a long, hard look at Dymir. Where had she learned to fight like that?

"You're General Grievous, aren't you?" Dymir asked suddenly.

"...Of course," Grievous answered.

"I knew it!" Dymir exclaimed. "How else would you have recognized my father's name? You were his leader! You led the Izvoshra!"

"How do you know about the Izvoshra?" Grievous asked.

"I learned about it from some of the soldiers who fought in the Huk wars," Dymir replied. "They raised me and taught me how to fight. They fled to Dracoria to protect their families from the Huk. Most of them were Sha'Koran, but a few of them were Kaleesh. You probably already know this, but Kalee wasn't the only planet that the Huk invaded and terrorized."

Grievous could only stare at the girl in shock. "Yes," he said to her. "Of course I knew that."

"Anyway," Dymir continued as they walked out of the building and headed out of the city, "those soldiers taught me everything I know. And when I was old enough, they gave me this lightsaber. They told me it belonged to my father, but they managed to retrieve it after he died. They thought I might get some use out of it. I knew I wouldn't have the same skills as a Jedi, but I knew I could learn sword techniques, the same ones they teach to those who use Lig swords. But after the Republic got involved, they started to become...disillusioned. They changed. They just...gave up. They got drunk and stopped trying to fight the threat that the Huk posed on us. And once the Mortax rose up, they were too drunk to care what was going on. I told them that, and they got angry and banished me from their group."

"Is that why you were crying earlier?" Grievous asked.

Dymir blushed and turned away to hide it. "I wasn't crying, " she lied.

"I heard you," said Grievous.

Dymir looked back at him and admitted, "Okay, fine, I was crying! But everything just seemed so bleak. I didn't know what else to do. Except fight. Whenever I needed to, I would fight like I always have."

Grievous just looked at the little girl in silence. _She's definitely got a lot of Koorvan in her._

They were now outside the building, where the army of battle droids was waiting for Grievous. They held up their weapons at the sight of Dymir, who was unfamiliar to them. "Stand down," Grievous ordered, and they lowered their weapons. "This half," he continued, gesturing to the droid to his left, "will stay and secure the city until we get further orders from Count Dooku. The rest of you, follow me back to the ship." Grievous led the way out of the desolate city, the battle droids following closely behind and Dymir half-walking, half-running to keep up with him at his side. Grievous noticed that Dymir never looked back at that city, not once. He didn't blame her.

"Will you take me with you?" Dymir asked suddenly. "I know it's kind of, well, short notice and all, but there's nothing left for me here on Dracoria. And...I think I could do some good for the Separatists. I mean, you've seen my fighting skills just now."

"Yes, I have," Grievous replied, thinking. "Your skills are better than I expected. They need work, but I can see you have potential..."

"So...what do you say?"

As Grievous opened the door of his ship, he took a look at the girl standing at his side. The wind blew gently through her short, dark hair, and her dark eyes glowed with determination. _She's convincing, I'll give her that_. "All right," he said. "I'll take you with me. But you'd better not disappoint me."

A huge grin grew on Dymir's face, and Grievous got the feeling that she hadn't smiled like that in a long time. "I won't disappoint you, General, I won't!"


	3. New Trials

"General," the holographic image of Count Dooku said. "Is the invasion of Dracoria complete?"

"Yes, Count," Grievous replied. He was now on the bridge of his command ship, speaking to Dooku at the forward command bridge's holocom projector. "We have seized the city of Iskra, and the droid regiments are now moving to the other cities. It is only a matter of time before the entire planet is within our grasp."

"And what of the Mortax mercenaries?"

"Dead," said Grievous. "They are all taken care of, my lord."

"Excellent," said Dooku. "And, General, may I ask...who is that young girl standing beside you?"

Grievous turned to Dymir, who simply gazed silently back at him. "This is Dymir Tirall," he told Dooku. "She is the daughter of Koorvan Tirall, one of the members of the Izvoshra."

"Your old elite back on Kalee?" asked Dooku with a slight tone of surprise.

"Yes," answered Grievous.

"How can you be sure?" asked Dooku.

"She says she is half Kaleesh," said Grievous, "and her sharp teeth are certainly not Sha'Koran like the rest of her. _And_ she is wearing Kaleesh battle-dress. _And_ she has Koorvan's lightsaber."

"Even if this is true," said Dooku, "of what value is the girl to us?"

"Her lightsaber skills are extraordinary," Grievous replied, to which Dymir gave a half-smile. "A bit unrefined, but extraordinary. I truly think she has great potential to join the Separatists."

Dooku looked Dymir over for a few seconds before he looked back to Grievous and said, "You wish to take her on, then."

"Yes," said Grievous. "I do."

"Your timing is impeccable then, General," said Dooku. "I have another task for you to test the girl's abilities. There is an old Republic weapons manufacturing plant on Vulpter." Here he transmitted an image of an enormous building on the holocom. It was a plain-looking building with a solitary window on the top at the front. "We have managed to track a Republic spy to this location. He is in hiding there, and we believe he plans on transmitting some sort of secret data to the Republic. The nature of this data is unknown, but any help for the Republic is a threat to the Separatists."

"Is the building well-guarded?" asked Grievous.

"Only by a few clones," said Dooku. "Fifty to a hundred at most. The manufacturing plant seems to have not been operational for some time. We think they may have transferred their weapons manufacturing operation to a more suitable location."

"If they are no longer manufacturing weapons, why would they go to all this trouble to guard the old building?" asked Grievous.

"Possibly to guard their spy," answered Dooku. "He may be using the facility as a hideout. What we need you to do is to find out what he is doing there and stop him."

"Can you give us any background information on this spy?" asked Dymir, who up to this point had not spoken.

Grievous looked at her, impressed. _She's got initiative_ , he thought. _That's good_.

Dooku seemed to be thinking the same thing, for a small flicker of a smile showed on his face. "His name is Gatlen Charr," he answered, and he put on the holocom an image of a Quarren man dressed in gray armor and carrying a light assault rifle. "He's said to have numerous contacts throughout the galaxy. He is armed and extremely dangerous. And I should probably mention, General, that Charr has allegedly, on occasion, collaborated with the Yam'rii...or Huk, as your people call them."

Grievous could almost hear the savage, ear-piercing cry of the Huk as a new anger rose within him. How anyone could aid those soulless bugs was beyond him. He was now absolutely determined to find this spy and make him pay for aiding his mortal enemy. "We will find him and deal with him, my lord," he replied. "And he will pay dearly for aiding the Republic and the Huk!"

"Very good, General," said Dooku. "And child," he addressed Dymir, "Are you sure you are up to the task? It will not be an easy one, I assure you."

"That's good," Dymir answered matter-of-factly. "I like a good challenge. But seriously, it's nothing I can't handle."

 _She's got guts_ and _initiative_ , Grievous thought. _I think we're going to get on just fine._

"Very well," said Dooku. "You have your orders." And the holographic image faded away.

Grievous turned to the droid at the front of the bridge. "Set your course for the Vulpter system," he commanded.

"Yes, sir," the droid replied, and pressing a few buttons and pushing a lever, it started the flagship on course for Vulpter.

Grievous then turned to Dymir. "It will take us a long time to reach the Vulpter system," he told her. "It is halfway across the galaxy from here. In the meantime, follow me to my quarters. We will look in my database for more information on this spy." He then led Dymir off the command bridge and down a hallway to their right. At the end of the hallway was an elevator, and Grievous pressed a few buttons to activate it. They waited in silence, for neither of them knew what to say. _Strange_ , Grievous thought. _If some Jedi scum were in front of me right now, I would have the perfect comeback for him. I would know_ exactly _what to say. But put me with a little girl-Koorvan's daughter, no less-and I'm speechless!_ He knew that in order to help Dymir become a more powerful ally for the Separatists, he'd have to get to know her more, both as a fighter and as a person. And to make things more difficult, if he was to eventually be her master, she would have to get to know him, too. And it wouldn't be easy with all that he'd been through in the past. All those memories...would it be too much?

And then there was this new enemy, Gatlen Charr. Why hadn't Dooku told Grievous about this spy before? Had he been waiting for the "perfect time" to tell him? And if so, what was so special about now that he could finally tell him? He had a feeling that there was more to this mission than Dooku was letting on. All the same, Grievous intended to carry out his master's orders and find out what this spy was planning.

The elevator door opened, and they stepped in. Grievous pressed some of the lit-up buttons to select the floor number, and the doors closed again. The elevator ascended. Grievous was somewhat relieved when Dymir finally broke the silence. "So," she said, "did you mean what you said back there?"

Grievous looked at her, confused. "What?"

"Did you mean what you said on the bridge?" she repeated. "About how my skills were...'extraordinary'?" She didn't look as if she were bragging; she looked simply as if she truly wanted to know what her master meant.

"Yes, I meant it," Grievous replied. "But don't let it get to your head, little one. You still need to perfect your technique."

Dymir nodded. "And you...you'll help me to do that, won't you?" she asked in a quiet, almost timid voice.

Grievous could only stare at her in disbelief. A girl with such skills as hers, who had been through war and abandonment, who had managed to survive on her own, toughened by the lessons she'd learned so young...was shy? He supposed that many children at her age were like that sometimes, but still, that could be a problem. "That depends on you," he replied.

"What do you mean?" asked Dymir.

"I mean whether or not you can complete this mission," Grievous answered. "If you succeed, I will be very impressed and, yes, I will help you with your lightsaber skills."

Dymir's eyes glimmered with what Grievous recognized as hope. "Do you mean it?" she asked.

"Yes..." Grievous couldn't quite understand the girl's enthusiasm. He could understand her wanting to help the Separatists. But what was it about him in particular that she so badly wanted to learn from him? He supposed he would find out soon enough, but he didn't know how he felt about that.

The door opened, and the general stepped into his quarters with Dymir following closely behind. Oddly enough, it was a rather empty room, save for a large table in the middle of the room and two chairs, one on each opposite side. There were some control panels and terminals lining the left wall, and at the back wall was a long row of lightsabers, lined up as if they were on display. These were the lightsabers that Grievous had collected over the years from the Jedi he'd defeated. Grievous could tell that Dymir was impressed with this collection of trophies, for her eyes were wide as she looked at them all lined up on the wall.

He walked over to one of the consoles on the left wall and pulled up a holographic image of Gatlen Charr. Beside the picture was some text describing Charr and his affiliations.

"It's true, then," said Grievous aloud to himself as he read the text. "It is just as Dooku said. Charr has collaborated with the Huk during and even after the war."

"But why would he do that?" asked Dymir. "He's a spy. Did he just do odd jobs for them, like reconnaissance missions or something, for some money?"

"I suppose," said Grievous. "But whatever aid he gave to the Huk is a detriment to the Kaleesh...my people. And he will pay dearly for that!"

Dymir nodded. "Does it say how long he's been working for the Republic?"

"This profile says five years," Grievous replied, "but it could have been longer depending on when this was last updated."

"Does he have any other known affiliations?" asked Dymir.

Grievous scrolled through the profile, which was quite detailed. He stopped at the section marked "affiliations" and began reading carefully. _Charr has been known to collaborate with the Yam'rii, the marked enemy of the Kalee system and of the Separatists. Separatist spies have also recently witnessed him colluding (for reasons unknown) with a Kaleesh male of unknown identity._ He stopped.

This Kaleesh male...could it be Eshaal? Was the man who had betrayed Grievous and killed Koorvan back from hiding to take revenge of him?

"What is it?" asked Dymir. "You got so quiet all of a sudden."

Grievous turned to Dymir, at a loss for words. How was he going to explain this to her? Did she even know how her father had died? "One of Charr's associates...is Kaleesh?"

"Kaleesh?" asked Dymir in surprise. "Why would a Kaleesh be aiding the Republic?"

"I don't know," Grievous replied.

Dymir paused for a moment, glancing again at the array of lightsabers on the back wall. Then she sat down at the table across from Grievous and asked, "General...could you tell me about my father?"

Grievous was unsure where to begin. "Well," he said, "I've known your father since before you were born. We trained together on Kalee, in combat mostly. But we also exchanged military tactics." He paused for a moment and looked at Dymir. Her eyes were glowing at the idea of knowing more about her father. He guessed that she wanted to learn more about him in order to emulate him. What was that she had said before? _I will continue his legacy._ He liked the immense amount of respect she had for Koorvan. "He was a very wise man, your father," he continued. "Very strong. And brave."

"They said-" Dymir said, but she hesitated.

"What is it?" Grievous asked her.

"They...the warriors," Dymir said. "The ones who trained me, I mean...they said my father died in a shuttle crash. Is that true?"

Grievous sat there for a moment, debating what he ought to tell her. He knew she could handle the truth, and he believed firmly that she deserved the truth. So that was what he told her. "No," answered. "It is true that most of the Izvoshra died in a shuttle crash-I myself almost did, too. But know, your father died months before that."

"What do you mean?" asked Dymir. She was beginning to look a little scared.

The sound of Eshaal's rifle firing echoed painfully through Grievous's mind. He tried to get rid of the horrible image of his friend's death, but he could not. Finally, he told Dymir the horrible truth, each word more painful than the last: "He...Koorvan...your father was murdered."

Dymir just sat there for a moment, mouth gaping and eyes wide. "Who..." she said in a quiet, distant voice, "who could have done such a thing?"

Grievous hesitated before telling her, "His name was Eshaal. Laigan Eshaal."

"So you're telling me," said Dymir, "that my father was shot and killed by one of his own allies?"

"Sadly, yes," said Grievous.

Dymir just sat there with a pained expression on her face, trying to take it all in. Then her eyes widened as she said, "You-you don't think this Eshaal is the one aiding the spy we're looking for, do you?"

"It's possible, but very unlikely," said Grievous. "Eshaal has been in hiding for five years. I can think of no possible reason why he would come back now. All the same, we must be cautious and keep our eyes open."

Dymir nodded. "What could they possibly be up to?" she asked. "What could they be planning?"

"That's what we're going to find out," Grievous replied, "when we land on Vulpter."

At that moment the doors opened and a droid walked in. "Sir," it said. "We have reached the Vulpter system."

"Excellent," said Grievous. "Prepare my shuttle for our landing."

"Yes, sir," said the droid, and it walked out of the room.

"Are you ready?" Grievous asked Dymir.

"Of course," said Dymir.

"I'm serious, Dymir," said Grievous. "You must be prepared and ready for anything."

"I'm sure I can handle it," she said. "Especially since you'll be there to help me. You're pretty much unstoppable."

 _I like this girl_ , Grievous thought. "Very well, then," he said. "Let's go."


	4. The Mission on Vulpter

When they stepped off the shuttle and onto the surface of Vulpter, Grievous was shocked. And he was almost never shocked.

Vulpter was the filthiest planet that he had ever seen. Large, gray buildings towered before them like great metal mountains, and smoke poured in torrents from the buildings' smokestacks. Everything around them looked at if it were covered in gray-brown dust. The sound of clanging and creaking could be heard everywhere. Black-gray clouds floated ominously in the purple sky. Needless to say the sun was nowhere in sight. A rat-like garbage hunter crawled along the ground past them, and Grievous saw Dymir shiver in disgust as it did.

Grievous been careful to land his shuttle a good distance away from the manufacturing plant in case the spy had reason to believe he'd been caught. He led Dymir into a small alley between two large, dirty buildings and pointed to a large, long building in the distance. "That's it," he said. "The weapons manufacturing plant. That's where our spy is hiding."

"But how will we get in?" asked Dymir. "It's sure to be very well-guarded."

Grievous thought for a second, looking hard at the building. His eyes switched to the building to the right of the plant. It was old, worn-down, and most likely abandoned. Nobody would notice their presence there. The building was about the same height as the plant with only a few feet's distance between them. "Follow me," he said, and he led Dymir through the alley and past a series of enormous buildings, each one taller and dirtier than the last. They were seen only by a few Vulptereens that immediately scurried away at the sight of them. They were in no mood to get in between the Supreme Commander of the Droid Armies and his goal. Finally, Grievous and Dymir reached the end of an enormously long alley. "Dead end," said Dymir.

"Not quite," said Grievous, and pointing to a large pile of crates in a corner of the alley he said, "Stand on top of those."

Dymir looked at the pile of crates, which stood about a foot high, and then looked back at the general with an eyebrow raised. "What?" she asked. "Why?"

"Just do as you're told," Grievous replied. Without further question, but still with some confusion, Dymir climbed atop the pile of boxes and stood there, careful to maintain her balance. Then turning around and looking back at her over his shoulder, he said, "Get on my back."

Dymir raised an eyebrow at the general, but obeyed. She clasped her arms tightly around his neck, and as soon as he was sure she wouldn't slip off, Grievous started to climb the wall. The weight of the small girl on his back did not slow him down at all as he climbed the wall of the abandoned building at an astounding speed. When they reached the top, Dymir was apparently quite winded. "Wow!" she exclaimed. "Wish _I_ could do that!"

Grievous examined his surroundings carefully. There was no one on the roof top except himself and Dymir, but out of the corner of his eye he saw something moving on the roof of the building next to them. There was a low wall around the perimeter of the roof, and he crouched low to the ground to keep from being seen. Dymir, still on the general's back, peered over the top of the wall at the man on the other roof top.

"Who is that man?" asked Dymir.

"A clone," Grievous answered. "That place will be crawling with them."

"So how will we take him-them-out?"

"Like this," said Grievous, and taking out his blaster pistol he fired a single shot at the clone. The blaster bolt hit the clone in the head, killing him instantly.

"Nice shot!" said Dymir.

"Let's go!" shouted Grievous, and he ran effortlessly across the rooftop toward the roof of the other building. When he reached the edge he jumped across the chasm between the two buildings and landed on the roof. He then approached the clone's corpse to make sure he was dead. When he saw that he was, he told Dymir, "More clones will be coming for us." He then ignited two lightsabers and cut a circular hole in the roof. He then deactivated his sabers, and they jumped into the hole and found themselves in a bright hallway with alarms blaring.

Dymir slipped off the general's back. "What now?" She had to shout because the alarms were so loud.

"Charr will probably be hiding in the control room," Grievous shouted back. "That's where all of his valuable data will be hidden, and he undoubtedly wants to protect it.

"But how do we get there?" asked Dymir.

Grievous looked around him, thinking. There was a small schematic of the building on the far wall, and they rushed over to take a look at it. "The control room is to the right and up two stories," Grievous said as he examined the schematic.

"Great!" said Dymir. "Let's go."

"Don't move!" a voice shouted behind them. As they turned around, the sound of multiple rifles locking and loading echoed across the hall. Clone troopers filled the hall before them. There had to have been at least twenty of them. "Hands up," the clone ordered, "or we will open fire!"

Grievous looked down at Dymir, and Dymir looked right back up at him. He thought he could detect just a small glimmer of a smile in her eyes. They nodded to each other and ignited their lightsabers.

"Blast them!" shouted the clone, but no sooner had he shouted it than Grievous and Dymir had started cutting his comrades down. Clones fell everywhere, either impaled or hit by their own bullets as they bounced off the Separatists' blades. Soon they were all dead, and Grievous and Dymir stepped over the pile of corpses and opened the elevator door a few steps down the corridor to the right. The elevator took them up two floors, and as the door opened and they hurried over to the center of the third floor, they approached a pair of large and heavy blast doors. Grievous cut a large square hole in the doors, and the square fell with a thud into the middle of the control room. Clones fired, but with a few swipes and deflections Grievous and Dymir easily defeated them.

They went in. Dymir went over to the forward viewport, which overlooked the entire manufacturing operation. Whirs, creaks and clashes could be heard quite easily from that distance as machines put together various weapons and conveyor belts carried them from one end of the enormous two-story room to the other.

Grievous walked over to a terminal in the center of the room, scrolling through a bunch of options until a tab marked "Construction" appeared. He opened it. Suddenly a large holographic display of a building appeared. The building was surrounded with a construction site filled with ship prototypes. Beneath the display read a caption marked "Prototypes for new vehicles to be used in the invasion of Kalee. Based on Kathanos. Prototypes designed by Gatlen Charr."

Grievous was horrified. Was the Republic really planning to invade Kalee? They had already done enough to make the impoverished Kaleesh suffer. Why invade the planet now?

"Um...Master?" Shaken from his thoughts, Grievous looked to Dymir. She was pointing to the other side of the room. She followed her finger to the other side of the room. There, standing with a vibroblade aimed at them, was the spy himself, Gatlen Charr.


End file.
